


In The Cold, Cold Night.

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First War with Voldemort, M/M, Marauders era, One Shot, Post-War, Werewolf, thunderstorm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 12:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5928010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus hated thunderstorms, but he hated the memories that came with them more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Cold, Cold Night.

**Author's Note:**

> So I entered this piece into a small fanfic competition and won! Please ignore the atrocious spelling mistakes.

The wind promised a storm was brewing. Sharp and insistent, it stabbed gleefully at the exposed skin of the rail thin, lanky man who marched his lonely way— bone-weary and altogether looking like threadbare sweater and rugged jeans blob of misery— up the deserted dirt road. The man tilted his head back, letting his startlingly gold eyes full shut for a moment, just a moment, as he inhaled deeply. Something inside him quaked and stuttered as the rich, tangy sent of rain filled his lungs and settled, heavy and electric, on his tongue. If his senses were right, and Remus Lupin's nose had never failed him, there would be thunder tonight. He _hated_ thunder.

His eyes flicked open, gazing past the ramshackle little cottage he was heading towards and fixing upon the mass of roiling, purple-black clouds that loomed, heavy and oppressive, on the jagged horizon. If anyone had happened upon him at that moment, seen the haunted pain in those unnervingly predatory eyes, they would've stumbled under the sheer weight of the agony reflected in their depths. This agony went beyond pain, no, it was as much part of the too-thin man as his grey streaked curls or the silvery scars that mapped his body. Another line inked onto the intricate map of Remus Lupin's past.

But the moment ended as swiftly as it came and Remus knew there would be nobody there to witness his pain, once perhaps, but that gift was lost to him now, buried in a silent graveyard, rotting in a stone cold cell.

Sailing his thoughts back to safer seas, Remus pulled his wand from his pocket, sending a final glare towards the stormy clouds and the unwanted memories they brought with them, before he went about painstakingly unlocking the wards on his shabby front door. A sense of foreboding rushed through him but he deftly quelled it.

Just because everything bad that had ever happened to him occurred in a thunderstorm, did not mean that every thunderstorm would bring something bad along with it. He still re-warded his house extra meticulously that night anyway.

 

It wasn't until a while later that the storm finally hit. Remus had long since given up the thought of sleep, his blood sang through his veins, pumping with anticipatory vigour as the storm rolled ever closer. His senses, sharper than most, had involuntarily picked up upon the charged energy that permeated the biting night air. It set him on a razor edge, filled his aching body with a nervous tension that only increased as the night progressed until, as the first fat drop of rain fell from the heavens, Remus fretfully gave up his quest for sleep for a new quest; _coffee_.

The staccato drumroll of rain on his thin roof would normally have eased the slender wizard into a state of lazy relaxation if the sound had not been accompanied by the crash and roar of Zeus's mighty thunder or the haphazard flashes that illuminated his tiny kitchen at irregular intervals. Remus's long fingers curled harshly around the heat of his cup as, once again, the soothing darkness was thrust into light. He counted hoarsely under his breath until the expected _BOOM_ resonated through the air and he squeezed his eyes shut with a low gasp. Remus could do nothing as the memories of thunderstorms long past overtook him.

Thankfully, the first one had faded as the years crept by, becoming patched and blurred, mixing in a poisonous concoction of truth and nightmare at the farthest recesses of his mind. Now the memory was more of a jumbled mix of emotions and sensory images;

 _The sharp, almost metallic tang of the storm_ , a smell that had forever made him cringe after That Night.

 _The sheer terror his five year old mind had dissolved into when the shadows in the dark became all too real._ Of course, now Remus knew that some monsters didn't hide in the dark, some monsters prowled skin deep, waiting to be set free.

 _The pain, like his skin was being shredded by the solid embodiment of white hot fire_ , Remus's hand unconsciously reached up to trace the scar that marred his cheek.

 _The screaming_. Of all the things, he wished he could forget the sound of his mother's screams.

The memory was over but Remus only hunched further in on himself. His trembling had nothing to do with the cool night air. The next memory was sharper, but still worn, like blanket that had been used too much and was now rotting at the back of a dank cupboard. This one hurt in a different way to the one of That Night, bittersweet and filled with _longing_.

_Remus had never in his life seen so many people. In fact, if you counted all the people Remus had even glanced at in the last five years of his life it would amount to the amount of wizards hurrying about in the confused chaos of platform 9¾. He felt the lingering warmth of his mother's hand upon his cheek as he closed his eyes and took a large, steadying breath._

_With a quiet determination, Remus plunged into the throng, dodging wayward elbows and abandoned luggage as he made his way through the crush of tearful parents and hyper children, dragging his shabby trunk behind him. A sharp pang of envy lanced through him as he watched a wild haired boy squirm in his red haired mother's arms. It was stupid to be jealous, he knew his parents loved him, in their own quiet way, but just once he wished they would fuss over him as this boy's mother did. Just once could they look him in the eyes and see just Remus, not Remus and The Beast._

_Remus carried on without a backwards glance._

_He didn't much like crowds, he decided, flinching away from the brush of a strangers arm with something akin to rising panic, too many eyes, too many possibilities. Remus's life had always been about control, about secrecy and loneliness and For Your Own Good. He had long since forgiven his parents his empty childhood and the heavy weight of a Secret Best Kept Hidden, after all it wasn't their fault he turned into a slavering, bloodthirsty monster every full moon. Remus only relaxed when the compartment door was shut tightly behind him._

_Away from the brightly dressed wizards and energetic cheer of the platform, Remus noticed what an absolutely miserable day it was outside the train window. The clouds were thick and dark, hanging in the sky with menacing promise, rain thundered onto the train's roof and running in little streams down the foggy glass of the window. In the distance, thunder roared and Remus couldn't help his involuntary shiver of fear._

_The cloying silence of the compartment was suddenly ended as the door slid open with a dramatic bang._

_"James! This one's practically empty!" A slim, dark haired boy called over his shoulder, his words cutting into Remus in a strange way. It inexplicably hurt that he was nothing more than a waster of space to this boy, but wasn't that what he wanted? To be plain and boring and normal._

_"What's up with your face?" Remus jumped and focused on a pair of sharp grey eyes, the question registered in his mind after a moment and he instinctively curled in on himself, panic making his heart thrum frantically against his ribcage like the wings of a caged bird._

_"N-n-nothing." Remus croaked shakily, studying the boy before him warily. He was regally handsome, all ruffled ink-black hair, aristocratic cheekbones and perfectly pale skin. In fact, the only imperfection on the boys face was the blossoming black eye he seemed to be nursing. "W-what's up with your f-face?"_

_Remus slapped a hand over his mouth in shock, never intending to even reply to the boy, let alone gave it come out sounding so rude and challenging. He tensed, waiting for anger or some other negative emotion. To his immense surprise the boy grinned, showing off his rows of straight, white teeth, before he flung himself into the space beside Remus, regarding Remus's still mortified expression with amusement._

_"My cousin punched me." He spoke nonchalantly, with a lazy drawl that oddly seemed to fit his posh accent. Remus frowned and fidgeted awkwardly, not knowing what to say._

_"Er, sorry." He finally managed, glancing up from where his hands twisted in his to once again meet those icy eyes._

_"Don't be," he waved Remus off casually. "I punched her first."_

_"You shouldn't p-punch girls." Once again Remus was surprised by his own brash comment but he was even more so by the loud laughter that erupted from the other side of the compartment. Red stained his cheeks as he glanced at the other boy he hadn't even noticed come in, jolting a little when he realised it was the same, wild haired boy he had watched on the platform._

_"Well he's got you there, Sirius." Said the boy Remus presumed was James. He was a tall boy, all knobbly knees and grin too big for his face, one of his hands unconsciously raked through his jet black hair as he smiled at Remus._

_"Ah, but does our skinny young friend know the whole story? No he does not." Sirius retorted, winking in an exaggerated manner at the bespectacled boy across from him. His theatrics were lost to Remus, however, who had frozen, wide eyed, at the word friend, a strange, bubbly feeling warming his heart, he had never had a friend before. He stared at Sirius owlishly, heat warming his face when the other boy smirked back at him. Did Sirius really think they could be friends?_

_Remus was so caught up in his erratic thoughts he missed James's retort._

_"Well," announced Sirius dramatically, pulling Remus back to the present. "It all started when Bella called me an 'ugly little git', anyone with eyes can see I am most certainly not ugly! So I decided to repay such a horrendous lie by saying...."_

_So engrossed with Sirius retelling of the story, which was equal parts hilarious and ridiculous, Remus didn't realise that the train had already left and the station and that they were well on their way to Hogwarts until a sudden CRASH of thunder jolted him back to reality. The storm was much closer now, almost directly overhead and Remus couldn't help the small whimper that escaped him as he dove away from the window, seized by irrational fear. Ever since That Night, Remus had been deathly afraid of thunderstorms._

_"Whoa! Hey, it's just a little thunder, Remus." James soothed, frowning in concern. He opened his mouth to explain that he just really hated storms but another almighty boom had him curling up into a shaky little ball on the floor. Something warm and firm pressed into his back and Remus tentatively opened eyes._

_"Think of something else, yeah? Something nice. It'll distract you." Sirius told him, still gently rubbing his back._

_"Y-y-you don't have t-to sit d-d-down here with me." Remus whispered. "You'll get y-your r-robes dirty."_

_"Nonsense," James cried, scrambling off his seat to join the other two on the floor. "It's much cozier down here."_

_Remus couldn't do anything but smile shakily at these two people who were so nice to him, so friendly and considerate. He really hoped that they were his friends._

_"What house do you want to be in?" Sirius asked into the comfortable silence after a while, not seeming to care that Remus was burrowed into his side._

_"Gryffindor, for the Brave. It's where every body in my family goes." There was a distinct note of pride in James's answer, and a note of finality as if he were so certain that he would be placed in Gryffindor it was as if he was already in it. Another roll of thunder, just as loud and terrifying as the last, blasted away in the sky, Remus shook miserably._

_"I-I don't th-think they'll p-put s-someone like me in G-gryffindor." Remus said forlornly, a sinking feeling in his gut. He didn't know why the thought of being in separate houses than James and Sirius made him want to cry but it did._

_"How about this," Sirius said suddenly, grey eyes piercing gold. "Whatever house they put me in, when it's your turn, ask for the same one." Remus blinked, held captive by the fierce passion on the other boy's face. He really is very pretty, Remus realised, a small warm feeling squirming in his stomach._

_"Okay."_

_Not even the thunder could dampen his smile._

Remus gasped when he was pulled back into reality, a small, injured sound that erupted from his throat and hung in the air. God he hated that memory, the way it still made him squirm with happiness, the way it shattered a little piece of him every time he reviewed it. It reminded him of how cruel the world could be, giving a young boy hope and happiness and then ripping them away with no warning. Remus was so tired of learning things the hard way.

The next flash of light made him flinch in fear, the next roll of thunder bought on another broken fragment of his past.

_Sirius's breath ghosted over his skin, sending goosebumps rippling in it's wake. A storm raged outside the Gryffindor Tower, each raindrop a small explosion. Remus trembled in the arms of his friend, face buried deep in the warmth of his shoulder, inhaling his familiar, soothing scent; snow and apples._

_"Shhh, it's okay." Sirius whispered, voice deep and velvety in the oppressive darkness. "Just think about something nice."_

_It had become a ritual between them, whenever a storm warred outside or a nightmare warred within, for Sirius to climb into Remus's fourposter bed and comfort or be comforted in the presence of the other boy. Remus was forever grateful for his goofy idiot of a friend, who always dramaticized everything and spent an hour doing his hair Just So and who always smiled when he entered the room and gave him the last chocolate frog from the packet._

_"God Sirius, how do you p-put up with me?" He whispered dryly into the skin of his friends collarbone, ignoring the small flare of Something More that sailed through him when Sirius's arms tightened their hold._

_"It is remarkably easy, your head is usually buried in some book or another." Sirius joked, smoothing a hand through his hair when he whimpered with another sharp flash. "You sound like a kicked puppy when you do that, damn near breaks my heart."_

_"Sh-shut it with the dog jokes, Padfoot." Remus warned halfheartedly. Thunder always reminded him of screaming, horrible, broken, agonized screaming. He started shaking again._

_"Moony..." Sirius rasped quietly after a while, absentmindedly playing with a curl at the nape of Remus's neck, the thinner boy shuddered for an entirely different reason, wriggling awkwardly. Sirius gently nudged him away, chuckling under his breath about pointy elbows. They stayed like that, side by side, nose to nose, until the storm had Remus crushing himself against Sirius again, cursing everything and nothing._

_"Merlin, Remus, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Sirius reprimanded with abject amusement making him flush. He still remembered the time Sirius called his cussing cute._

_"Mum doesn't even hug me anymore if she doesn't doesn't have to, so no, I don't actually." Remus expected Sirius to roll his eyes and quip back sarcastically, maybe a dog breath joke or two, he did not expect his friend to let out a low angry hiss._

_"You're mother doesn't hug you. Because of something you couldn't control. That is utter fucking bullshit, Moony!" He growled the words, low and filled with powerful heat, breath tickling Remus's cheek. He let his eyes flutter shut._

_"I don't see why you're getting so worked up?" He tried to keep his voice steady and even, tried not to reveal another Secret Best Kept Hidden, but the way Sirius clutched at him, only a thin layer of cotton between their skin, made it very hard._

_"Because!" He exploded furiously. "Because you deserve to be fucking loved! If not by her then by someone who can do it right."_

_Remus frowned, forgetting, for a moment, the thrill of being in Sirius's arms._

_"You do realise that I can't be in any sort of romantic relationship?"_

_Sirius spluttered wordlessly for a moment, composing himself enough to mutter, "And why the bloody hell not?"_

_"Nobody will want to kiss me whilst knowing about my Furry Little Problem. And I refuse to shackle someone to my side if they don't know what I am." Remus explained, there was no bitterness in his voice, just plain fact._

_"That's not true!" Sirius blurted, tilting his head up by the chin. Remus's breath caught in his throat at the burning intensity in those crystalline eyes, mind reeling with the implication of Sirius's words, the scorching desire of his touch._

_"Sirius." He whispered reverently into the rapidly closing space between them, before his lips were covered with Sirius's own, soft and chapped and warm. Remus felt his heart soar in his chest, felt that tingly, bubbly feeling seize his body from his curling toes to his clutching fingertips._

_Remus smiled as thunder shook the castle and Sirius Black kissed him._

The pain lanced through his heart like an arrow wrapped in barbed wire, piercing him so thoroughly, shredding him so irreversibly. Remus choked on a laugh. It wasn't a pleasant sound but harsh and bitter, like breaking glass, cutting through the silence just as easily.

He didn't even fight the next memory, if only to let this razor splintered pain dull into the background for just a moment.

_Betrayal tasted like tears._

They thought it was me. _It whispered, sinister and gleeful, that hidden part of himself that felt like laughing uproariously when the rest of him just wanted to die. They thought it was me but it was him all along._

_And then he did laugh, but it sounded more like a sob, wrenched from his very soul and filled with so much anguish he laughed harder. The months had been hard, each one carved into his face, too young, each one shown in the stretch of skin over bone. Yes, it had been hard, the hardest thing he had ever done, to watch as the love he so cherished turned sour with suspicion, to go against his very nature and play nice with the man who shredded his innocence and left a five year old monster in his wake. To do nothing as his life collapsed around him, just another broken thing in a breaking world._

_But he'd done it, thrown it all away in a desperate bid to keep it all safe. Who cares if he was there to enjoy the people he loved as long as they were still there. It doesn't matter if his heart got just a little bit bitter towards the end, if his thoughts were poisoned by the sting of betrayal, he still went there every single day so his family, his pack, would be safe._

_It's funny how the ones we try to protect are the ones that stab us in the back. Or stab our other loved ones in the back and then blow up more of our loved ones alongside a dozen Muggles._

_"They thought it was me." He whispered to the shattered remains of the Potter's house._

_"THEY THOUGHT IT WAS ME!" He screamed to the broiling black sky, tipping his head back in the rain and howling with the thunder._

_Everything was numb and everything was sketched in perfect clarity. They betrayed him and then they were betrayed. Life has a strange sense of poetic justice when it comes to fucking you over._

_So Remus knelt in the mud and laughed as his world was torn to pieces in the perfect storm._

Back in his tiny kitchen, sitting, hunched, in his threadbare pajamas, Remus Lupin didn't cry. He sat, numb and heavy and so  _so tired,_ but he didn't sleep. And, long after the storm had passed— after the memories had faded back into the shadows of his mind— the sun rose, shining through the gaps of his curtains and Remus still hadn't moved. It wasn't until the persistent tapping of an underfed looking owl roused him from his vacant state, did he realise what the time was.

With a few strongly worded exclamations, Remus readied himself for another day of grueling work, another day spent worrying if it was his last payroll. He hurried to the window and collected his mail, not even glancing at it as he threw it in the general direction of his desk. As Remus exited in a whirlwind of determined action, the discarded letter fluttered silently into the bin, landing face down on in the collected dust, obscuring the words that were scrawled there.

The words that read;

_Moony,_

_I wasn't the secret keeper. IT WASN'T ME. You'll no soon enough what really happened, I promise._

_I love you, always._

_S.B. (Padfoot)_

 


End file.
